A Meeting in the Legerdemain

Upstairs in the private dining room, Malcotin surveyed the table. Covered in a pristine white cloth and set with the Lounge’s best dinnerware and crystal goblets, the centerpiece of red roses in a ceramic vase made it perfect.

He waited patiently for the Sunwalkers to join him. Musing slightly as he reviewed the story he had told them of his rise into undeath. There was a lot more to the story of course. How his tormenter had bought him from the Forsaken and then taken him to Northrend to be tortured in her private lab in this very city.

His teeth bared slightly as the memories haunted him of her deals with demons, and the entry into the very Fortress of Icecrown. She had seen the capabilities of the death knights and wanted him to be such. Of course, she wanted also to own him, to control him as the Lich King would.

The brandy snifter in his hand was in dire danger of being shattered, so he put it down and lit his pipe instead. The fragrant smoke filled the small room and relaxed him a bit. If he was to gain control of this couple in order to further his studies, he would have to gain their sympathy and trust. Inwardly, he growled at having to stoop to such, when all around him, others flourished with their own deals. Malcotin did not make deals with demons. He knew how deceitful they were, having learned that first hand. Nevertheless, he needed more data, and they would be a good start.

Hearing the footfalls and the soft murmur of his guests approaching, he schooled his dignified face into a semblance of serenity. The waitress showed them in and offered a choice of beverage.

“Good evening, so glad you chose to join me. The privacy here will allow me to give you further details of my research and needs, as well as what I can offer you.” He greeted them with a warm smile, offering his hand to Keelath and a deep bow to Mirium.

Keelath takes the hand and shakes it, spending a bit longer this time as he feels the unnatural (for an undead) warmth and wonders what it’s about. Mirium does a shadow of a curtsy, as she might at a sin’dorei court.

“I take it the privacy is necessary?” asks Mirium, though if she means to score points on anyone with the statement, it’s probably her husband.

Keelath politely doesn’t reply, inspecting the room before taking a seat at the table. “You have certainly gone to a lot a trouble,” he says, and if there’s anything he’s subtly acknowledging, it’s his wife’s suspicions this might be a set up.

Both statements are said with the gentility of aristocratic elves, who have played the intrigue game for centuries; though one might get the impression they are playing against each other just as much as Malcotin this time.

The handshake was a telling sign. Keelath was curious, that much was certain. But the game was on now, and Malcotin had to move carefully. “The trouble is not mine, to be fair, the staff here aim to please. I only asked for privacy. As to why? I feel like the things I do might trouble some people, so I prefer to keep those who know to a minimum. You know as well as I do, Keelath, that death knights are not exactly socially popular. They like us around in battle, that is for sure.” He chuckled.

“Please be seated. I ordered my food already, if you would like to tell the waitress what strikes your fancy, please feel free to indulge, it’s on me!” He held the chair for Mirium, as a gentleman would and sat across from her so Keelath could sit next to her.

There was very little chatter or noise coming from downstairs and it was pretty clear they were private. Malcotin glanced between them. “I can tell you are both nervous and wary. Please ask any questions you have and I will do my best to set your minds at ease.”